


She Didn't Stand a Chance

by SC Sinclair (bookworm1320)



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Riverdale - Fandom, bughead - Fandom
Genre: F/M, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-02 17:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14549745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm1320/pseuds/SC%20Sinclair
Summary: Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones were the golden couple of Riverdale until a tragic accident puts Betty's life on the line. Now Jughead is spirling while Betty is fighting for every breath. Is their love strong enough to save Betty? Or will it all go up in flames?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fanfic so I would appreciate some support... 
> 
> I'll try to post once a week
> 
> hope you guys like it :)

It was an innocent day, the type of day you were sure could never turn toxic. Or so the residents of Riverdale thought. As wisps of cloud floated languidly overhead in a suffocatingly blue sky, a secret shattered the peace below. 

Though cliché, Jughead, and Betty were the golden couple of Riverdale High. The perfect girl next door and the broken loner with a dark past. Each needed the other more than oxygen. There had never been a couple more meant to be than the two who happened to be in the middle of their worst argument yet. 

“Jug, it’s not a big deal. I was going to tell you once I figured things out.” Betty pleaded desperately.  
“No Betty, it is a big deal. The effing Black Hood called you and you kept it from me. What if something happened to you? I could’ve helped you figure it out!”  
“Juggie-”  
“No, I don’t really want to hear it Betty, but then again, why would you care what I want? You can’t keep things from me. Sometimes it’s like I don’t even know you.” Jughead paced, more and more agitated by the second. He knew he’d regret his words in a future scene, but he couldn’t stop. Maybe if he had decided to halt the cutting remarks streaming from his mouth he would have prevented the destined outcome. But alas, in anger there is no thought.  
“Honestly Betty, I’m not even sure I can do this anymore. God, you’re so aggravating.”

The stress of the last few days fueled him. 

“So let me get this straight, I spill all my darkest secrets and you can dish what you want when you want? I’m sick of this, I’m sick of you!”

And with that, he turned his back on the shaking blonde. 

“Fine.” She snapped, her tone cutting. 

Jughead winced with an instant flash of regret as he heard the door slam behind him. He was out the door before her car had left the driveway. 

Recognizing that he would only catch her in a vehicle of his own, he jumped onto his motorbike. Panic raced through him as the reality of what he’d said coursed through him. He knew how badly these would affect Betty, he knew that by now her nails were biting into her palms, drawing blood. God, he was stupid.

He had just finished constructing the perfect apology when the car in front of him swerved alarmingly to the right. From the car’s rearview mirror he could see Betty sitting stock still, almost in a daze. The car hovers ominously over the solid white line separating the two lanes, he was falling behind. 

Nausea rose in his throat as the white jeep jerked closer towards oncoming traffic, speed picking up. Jughead had almost caught up with his girlfriend in the other lane when it happened. 

The distraught girl came-to, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, her panicked hands spastically turned the wheel. A deep bellowing horn resonated he highway as a semi truck barrelled towards her. Jughead's heart stopped, and a scream ripped from his throat. 

They collided. 

She didn’t stand a chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty is alive, but barely. Jughead struggles to cope, along with Archie and Veronica. Can she fight through? Or is she forever broken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, there's a lot more readers than I thought there'd be (albeit there's not that many, but still) 
> 
> Thank you guys <3 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> (Also, it got rid of my formatting so I had to write that the flashbacks were flashbacks, so sorry for the confusion and trashy formatting)

Chapter 2

The smell of cleaner and death flooded Jughead’s nostrils. His hands were shaking like a leaf in the wind, still coated in the love-of-his-life’s blood. Tears blurred his vision. He couldn’t stay in the harsh, solid hospital chair. He felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest every minute he was left waiting. The white-washed walls seemed to close in around him. He needed out.

Finally outdoors, he gulped in the cool fall air.

Flash Back: A truck, hurtling towards her.

He shook his head, trying to clear the visions.

FB: A horn sliced through the night.

Mimicking Betty he dug his nails into his palms, and felt the skin tear.

FB: His own scream mixed with her own.

No, he had to fight it.

FB: The collision. Her car- the car they had spent many a day driving around aimlessly in, ripped apart as if it was nothing. As if she was nothing.

Then the crash, the sickening crunch as the hood caved in on itself, crumpling like a tin can.

A neatly manicured hand flopped out of the fractured driver side window, sticky with blood.

Jughead tasted salt, and felt tears cascade down his cheeks. He sunk to the ground.

He cradled her limp body, feeling her hesitant heart beat. Letting it soothe him ever so slightly.

And yet it didn’t.

Reality hit him full force and he began to sob, screaming for help on the now deserted highway.

A rusty pickup truck pulled up beside him. While the distressed driver called 911, Jughead chose to focus on her hair. Her hair that he had so often weaved around his fingers mindlessly, was now damp and matted with blood. Alright, so maybe not her hair. But the rest of her was no better. She was broken and it was his fault.

All his fault.

If he hadn’t affronted Betty then she would still be in the living room with him, most likely curled up like a cat on is ragtag couch, her chest against his back. His only safe place

And now…

Their final words to each other would be those expressed in anger.

She’s alive though… but not really. She’ll always be splintered, always broken, always h-

 

Present: Jughead was snapped out of his daze by a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Veronica appeared over him, the sun behind her framing her surely anxious face. Her black hair hung limply to her shoulders, devoid of the limitless time she often devoted to it

“How is she Jug? Jug? Can you hear me? Jug-”

“God, Veronica I hear you. I don’t know alright? Th-they won’t tell me anything. They won’t tell her own boyfriend how she is!”

“What happened?” There was Archie, concern and confusion were etched in his strong jawline. His brows furrowed in distress. Clutching Veronica’s hand.

Jughead was at a fault as to what to reply. What could he say?

 

“Oh yeah, Betty and I were in a fight that caused her to drive into oncoming traffic. No biggie.”

 

Like that would fly with Veronica.

“I don’t really know, she was driving, and then a truck… just out of no where… she didn’t mean to… I don’t- I don’t know what to do. She’s in a hospital. Betty’s in a hospital. I can’t-”

He was stopped abruptly by Veronica pulling him roughly up.

“What the hell?” He spluttered as she began to shake him by the shoulders.

“You’re right Jones, Betty’s in the hospital, but you’re not going to help her by sitting here and blubbering. You owe her this much. Betty has stuck with each of us through thick and thin and we’re not going to give up on her and sit her wondering what to do. Now, follow me boys. We’re going to save our Betty Cooper. Vamonos.”

Jughead and Archie followed like obedient hounds- Veronica seemed to have that affect. She marched assuredly towards the hospital desk. The poor secretary didn’t stand a chance. She pestered, bribed and flirted until there was no way he could have resisted. Neither could Archie, as he lost sight of the dire situation, watching Veronica flutter her eyelashes and twirl her hair with great attention, waiting to see if his assistance was necessary. It wasn’t. She flaunted back to the boys within ten minutes, who stood forlornly, furthering their comparison to dogs.

“Well, he wouldn’t give me any information, but he did say we could go back to Room 22. They have her in a stable state. The nurse will fill us in. That’s all I know.” She stated, pride at her persuasion abundant in her tone.

She lost her assurance with every step they took towards Room 22, as did the rest of them. Archie’s usual aplomb stagger turned to a nervous shuffle, and his brow furrowed to a greater extent. Jughead was the most affected. He quickened his pace, not wanting another wall of impassable seconds to separate him and Betty. He reached the room and had his hand on the handle, ready to push onwards when a round nurse, messy lipstick scrawled across her lips like a last minute note, blocked his passage.

“Sir, only family members allowed.” She announced in an aggravating voice.

“I-I have to go in. You don’t understand!”

“Family members only.” She repeated firmly. “Now, unless you’re her long-lost brother, I suggest you return to the waiting room.”

Out of fight, Jughead and his companions turned glumly back down the hallway, only to be blocked once more by a flustered Alice Cooper.

“How is she?” she gasped, grasping him by the shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he whispered in a very un-Jughead way. “They won’t let me in.”

She brushed past the objecting nurse with nothing but a backwards glance to attempt at a smile. More for her own sake then Jughead, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

He paced restlessly, past Archie and Veronica, who were slumped against the wall. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Alice filed out of the room, her head stooped. When she looked up, the trio’s hearts skipped a beat, for they knew something was off. The stern, severe and impassive Alice Cooper had tears streaming down her cheeks. Sobs racked her frame and her shoulders curled in on themselves, as if a wall to protect her heart.

“Coma…” was all she was able to divulge before her voice cracked and she deteriorated.

“No.” Veronica answered, while Archie conveyed the exact opposite reaction. He sighed in relief. “At least she’s okay.”

“No!” Veronica repeated.

Jughead pushed past this exchange and burst into the room.

A small part of him broke as he took in his Betty.

She lay, nested in the center of a large expanse of white sheets. She looked so frail, so fragile, so tiny. Her face was alabaster and her hair was limp. Her eyelids were closed, and her lips curled up ever so slightly, she almost seemed to smile, which seemed ridiculously unjust. She seemed so delicate that one negligent graze could blow her away.

He sunk into the chair occupying the space next to her expansive bed. He took in the machinery that was keeping her alive. Hours before she had been able to take each breath without fear of the next one not coming, and now she was relying on a machine to supply her with life. He clutched the blanched sheets in his fists and buried his nose into them.

Glimpsing the hesitant rise and fall of her chest, he straightened up immediately, remembering Veronica urging him to be strong for Betty.

So that’s what he would do.

For the next hours, that gradually turned to days, Jughead invariably stayed at Betty’s side. He had heard that reading and speaking to coma patient reached them in some way or form and provided strength. Jughead had always thought of it as a load of bull, but he clung to it like it was a lifeline. He had Veronica and Archie fetch Betty’s favorite books, movies and CDs, they had agreed in a sudden bout of usefulness, instead of pacing the hallways and waiting rooms.

His throat became raw and his eyes blurred as he grew increasingly sick of Beloved, by Toni Morrison, but given the history of this particular copy, he read it to countless ends.

He slept with his head nestled between his arms, in the chair by her bed. Every time he left to grab a snack, or do his business, he was overcome with emptiness. The smallest distance seemed vast.

Cheryl and Toni had visited, bearing flowers and prayers, Cheryl had stood by her bedside and sung a “song of hope and prosperity,” in a total exasperatingly, yet not entirely unappreciated Cheryl way to do so.

FP had visited to, not only to speak to his son, but to “converse” with Betty (or as much as her current state allowed him to do so.) She was practically his daughter (or soon to be daughter-in-law, he thought,) based on the apprehension he had for her. It was FP who finally coaxed Jughead home, take a shower, and get some rest in a real bed instead of a stiff-backed chair. Jughead did so grudgingly, but had to admit, the warm shower felt good. Yet he couldn’t stay away for long. Every second away from Betty was agonizing, and full of anxiety.

Archie came to pick him up. The drive to the hospital was sullen and awkward, until Archie finally broke the silence.

“How are you really doing man?” he asked, eyes fixated on the road in front of him.

“Don’t tell me we’re going to have one of those bro-to-bro deep conversations. I don’t think I could bear it.” Jughead replied snidely, yet unable to hide the exhaustion in his voice.

“I don’t know, I just feel like this is my fault. I should’ve been there, I should’ve protected her. It’s my job.” He continued after a brief silence.

“We both know that Betty can take care of herself. She’s too stubborn to be protected. You couldn’t have done anything. No one could’ve. Trust me man, I think the same thing every night. I could’ve done something, I should’ve known.” Archie countered.

“I just- God I hope she’ll be okay. We all need her to be. Riverdale needs her to be okay. I need her to be okay.” Jughead whispered, his hands furiously wiping tears from his eyes.

“Please let her be okay.”   
———————————————————————

Archie and Jughead jogged up the stairs to the lobby in an abrupt spell of uncharacterized energy, almost racing as if they were children again. When they reached the main room, Veronica stood waiting, her eyes shining, and a smile gracing her lips.

“She’s awake!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry all my chapters are so short... I'm really stressed for finals so chapters might be a little short and slightly further in between each update. 
> 
> Sorry again for the weird, confusing flashbacks, it looked a lot better on my doc. Whatever. 
> 
> Hope you guys liked it <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty's finally awake, but some unforeseen complications hamper her and Jughead's reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh i'm back!!
> 
> sorry, i've just been super busy and my anxiety is really bad- but i'll try to update more frequently.
> 
> thanks for stickin' with me!

“She’s awake,”

It’s these two words that set Jughead’s world back on its axis.

“I have to see her- excuse me.” He pushed past Veronica, who had remained in the doorway after her exclamation, looking slightly lost, though he couldn’t understand why. She was awake.

“Jug, I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Veronica pleaded, clutching his arm. “She-she doesn’t-” disregarding her imploration, he shrugged her off and strode towards Betty’s room. This time no one stopped him as he shoved the door open with unnecessary force, impatient. 

There she was, swamped in the white hospital sheets, just like she had been for days on end, but this time she was propped up. She tilted her head as he barged in. And yet, though she was awake and functioning, something seemed off. Her eyes held a chill that they hadn’t before, and she blinked in surprise, as if she had never laid eyes upon him before. Her skin was no longer auspicious, and the rosy pink blush that so often tickled her features was gone. replaced with a blanched, stone-like expression. This unfamiliar aspect threw him off, and he hesitated. 

“Can I help you?” Her voice was fragile and coarse, at first, Jughead hadn’t realized she had spoken. She didn’t sound like his Betty. And her words, edged with reproach, and perturbed. “Are you the doctor?” she demanded. 

“What? Betty, c’mon.” 

“What do you mean? Can you tell me what’s going on?” she croaked

Jughead stepped towards her bed, panic starting to rise like bile in his throat. This had to be a joke. “Stop kidding around Bets.” 

“Who are you?” She whispered, “What do you want? What’s happening?”

“Betty, it’s me, Jug. Remember? You were in an accident, but you’re in the hospital now, and it’s gonna be okay. Your-”

“I don’t know you. Please leave me alone.”

“I’m Jughead, your boyfriend. Remember? We solve mysteries together, you’re the perfect girl-next-door and I’m the weirdo loner?” He sped up as he saw doubt cloud her vision. “Betty, come on. You remember don’t you? We’re the Romeo and Juliet that make it, we’re the exception. Betty, please, I know you do, I’m the boy w-who loves you. Tell me you remember me.” 

And with her next words, Jughead felt his heart shatter. “I don’t- I can’t remember,”

 

Unfamiliar tears sprung to his eyes and he felt his face contort as he turned towards the door, willing himself not to cry. 

“Forget about it.” He opened the door, still furiously wiping tears from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry?” He heard her whisper, and he felt his heart squeeze at the uncertainty in those two timid words, at the fact that she felt she had to apologize for his pain. It took everything in him to not run to her side, delicately brush her hair from her eyes and wrap her scarred hands in his own. Instead he resolutely turned to leave, only to glance back and see her verdant eyes starting to glisten with unshed tears at this rude stranger’s foreign memories and indiguisable pain. 

“Please don’t leave,” she breathed, “I need to understand” 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed the door and fled. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

And here he was again. Back pressed against a wall, head in his hands, a desperately unbearable feeling of anguish filled his chest. He didn’t know who he was without her. And now? Now the love of his life didn’t even remember her own name. She was his home. Everything he was lied inside of Betty. His only favorable memories were in her hands. A heated yell ripped from his throat, and he realized he enjoyed the burning sensation in his throat. 

There Jughead sat. Outside of a building associated with heartbreak and loss, howling out all his pains. Feeling his heart being broken for the second time. The image of insanity. Of pain. Of heartache.

 

Was it minutes or hours later that Alice eased into the space beside Jughead? He certainly couldn’t tell. All he could feel was the raw of both his throat and his heart. 

“She’s not gone, you know,” she whispered

“That’s debatable.” he shifted, not knowing what to say. 

“She needs us though.” 

“What about me? I need someone right now,” he muttered, realizing he sounded like a petulant child. 

“The doctor said with the right coaxing she could be… her again.” She looked at him with eyes that resembled Betty’s, so much in fact that his heart caught for a second as he imagined it was her, looking at him again. “Just remember that,”

As Alice stood up to leave, she glanced back one last time, “She really loved you, you know?” And with that, she was gone. 

Alice’s words had a ring of truth to them, but today Jughead was too exhausted to fret over anyone else’s well-being. On the trip home his hands trembled on the wheel. He had been unable to feel safe in a vehicle since the… incident. He had witnessed first-hand the effect of careless driving. 

Finally home for the first time in days, he staggered to the couch. From his pathetic angle he could see the refrigerator that F.P. kept stock-full of beers for the occasional drink, though his father was ever-cautious since the years wasted on alcohol. He found himself hauling himself to the fridge, grabbing a beer by the neck and gulping it down. The next hours were obscured by drink-after-drink. He couldn’t stop for fear that the minute he did, it’d all catch up to him. He finally understood why his father had resorted to chilled beers over facing his fear. 

He was so absorbed in his fog that the sharp rapping startled him enough to throw the trailer open with fervor, and revealing a taken-aback Archie. 

“Hey man! Wanna beer?” Jughead slurred.

“No, thanks- wait, are you drunk?”

“Just a ‘lil,”  
“Jug, what the hell?” Archie exclaimed.

“Dude, like barely at all. I can still see your face- or faces.” 

“Oh my god. I cannot believe you.” Archie sat down and buried his face into his hands. “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met,”

This sobered Jug up immediately. “Oh don’t act like you understand Archie!”

“You know, you’re not the only one who loves Betty.”

“You never give- gave her the time of day unless you needed her. You didn’t love her. I did- or do. So don’t act like you can fathom anything I’m going through,” he said, striding threateningly towards his best friend.

“Jesus Jug. It’s not all about you, so stop making it,” 

“I’m not. You know what? Get out! You can’t come into my house and tell me how to deal with this.” 

“You know what? You’re right. I can’t, but you sure as hell can’t act like you know what you’re doing. Betty’s fighting the fight of her life and you’re here, locked up and drinking your brains out and making it about you. So don’t act like you’re playing the hero. Because you’re not.”

Jughead was speechless as Archie stormed out and threw a last biting comment over his shoulder: “Guess you’re going through this alone bud.” 

Hours later, Archie’s words seemed to finally sink in while Jughead was lying face down on the rug, surrounded by empty beer bottles, a rather comical pose despite the circumstances. He hauled himself out of his helpless position, and staggered towards the door. His vision started to spin as he started his motorcycle and he blundered down the road, as reckless as the thoughts that tumbled through his head, somehow managing to pull up to the hospital unscathed. Careening down the hallway, he reached Betty’s room and lurched through her door. He sprawled next to her. She awoke with a start. 

“What-” she managed to spit out.

“Wait, shh,” he put a finger to her mouth, and pushed out his last declaration. “I don’t really know what to say to you. Because I love you, and you don’t love me anymore. You don’t remember and that’s okay. Even if you did, I think you’d hate me. But something tells me I’m going to love you forever. I always thought you’d save me- and you did, but now you’re pushing me off the edge. But guess what? For you I’ll do anything, and whatever. Okay?” He pulled away, dazed from his drunken confession. “K bye,” Jughead garbled, wavering, looking back at her shocked expression. 

The last thing he saw was the nurse’s pristine white shoes hustling to her patient's side, and her protests at his presence, but before he could reply, his vision blurred, and he hit the ground in a drunken and broken mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys liked it! sorry if it kinda sucked- the only time i'm inspired enough to write is at 1 am, so my grammar and ideas are a little off. this is kind of a transition chapter so next week will be better. hopefully.
> 
> comment any questions, and leave kudos if you wanna
> 
> love you guysss
> 
> (also wow, i've realized i write really short chapters compared to most people- sorry. they take a while to write but i guess they actually aren't that impressive, but inspiration comes in short bursts so take what you can get)

**Author's Note:**

> I know this week was really short, but it was kinda an intro
> 
> I'd appreciate any comments, shares or kudos
> 
> thanks :)


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